


he lost himself to the past

by menefreghista



Series: love breeds hatred, and i loved you too much [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Dissociation, Emotional Hurt, Heavy Angst, Hurt No Comfort, It’s just not working out for Sasuke right now, Mental Health Issues, Naruto Just Want to Help, Obito is a Strange Guy TM, Text heavy, Uchiha Sasuke Has Issues, Uchiha Sasuke Needs a Hug, Unhappy Ending, but it’s there - Freeform, or ever, the sasunaru isn’t really a focus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-17 15:00:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29352354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/menefreghista/pseuds/menefreghista
Summary: At some point in his miserable life, Sasuke knew he must have been happy. Of course, he wasn’t at that point any more.or to rephrase it:I’m not coping so Sasuke isn’t either.
Relationships: Uchiha Itachi & Uchiha Sasuke, Uchiha Sasuke & Team Hebi | Team Taka, Uchiha Sasuke & Uzumaki Naruto, Uchiha Sasuke/Uzumaki Naruto (implied)
Series: love breeds hatred, and i loved you too much [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2160636
Kudos: 18





	he lost himself to the past

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve kinda been feeling some typa way lately, and by that i mean i’m so tired i can’t even explain it. So, as usual i decided to rant through one of my favorite naruto characters like it’s still 2014. I literally wrote this in the AM on my phone whilst on the verge of passing out all the while listening to the whole ARDIPITHECUS album by WILLOW on repeat so sorry for any mistakes and stuff.

At some point in his miserable life, Sasuke knew he must have been happy. Of course, he wasn’t at that point any more, and the only emotion he felt that he was willing to acknowledge, was the anger. Hatred, boiling and bubbling like a volcano inside of him. Ready to burst and tear down everything in its path. Hopefully that everything would be Konoha. Maybe a few neighboring lands too.

He found himself wishing occasionally, that he was seven, and Itachi was there, smiling and happy and not at all murderous. Maybe in this ideal reality, his mom and dad and the rest of his godforsaken clan were there, and laughter would fill the empty streets of the Uchiha District.

Maybe Naruto didn’t realize it, but he wasn’t joking when he said his dreams lay in the past. There was no future for the Uchiha, and the only place that Sasuke would ever see his mother alive again, would be in the rare space of time where he was so deep asleep, that he dreamt. 

So he was bitter. Rightfully so. In the future that Sasuke refused to be a part of, maybe people would believe him to be the villain. It made him wonder of the great hero’s and villains of history. How many were truly evil? He doubted it was as many as the historians made it out to be.

And for that, Sasuke would fester in his hatred til he was able to exact his revenge. He knew it was unjust, to destroy the innocent people who had nothing to do with the Uchiha. He knew it wasn’t right to spit on his older brothers last wish like it was nothing. He knew it, and he saw it, but he couldn’t help the rage boiling under his skin.

So he waited each day out. Suffering through Suigetsu and Karin’s relentless arguing. Watching as Tobi plotted the downfall of the world because he was still simping after a girl dead as of maybe fifteen years ago. Glaring at Naruto because for some reason the fool wouldn’t just give up on him. It made for a tiring existence, and he found his peace in the late hours of the night, when nobody was awake, and the only sound to be heard was caused by Jugo being mildly psychopathic at ungodly hours. 

That was easily solvable though, and more often than not, Sasuke would merely glance in the taller man’s direction, and he would calm, and return to sleep with a soft smile on his face. For such a scary looking guy, Jugo had turned out to be remarkably kind and gentle. Sasuke couldn’t help but feel thankful for that, among the chaos that was the rest of his team.

They did respect him though, in the strange way that a mouse respects a cat because it knows at any second the cat could snap and kill it. It wasn’t the healthiest relationship that a friend group could have, but it’s better than Sasuke expected, so that was always something. 

When he had that rare lapse in anger and slipped into a state of remembrance, he wouldn’t dare call it nostalgia, or longing, he would wish for his old team, and Suigetsu and Karin would pull him out of it almost immediately with their ceaseless battling.

But he still couldn’t help but wonder what his old team was up to. Had they given up yet? Replaced him? We’re they so angry, that if he came home they would through him right back out? Then he would shake his head, because _when did Konoha become home again?_

So, in summary, Sasuke was a mess, and openly so. He was basically going blind. He was angry so often he forgot most other emotions. Somehow, the object of his anger had shifted. And while it still lay it’s sharingan eyes upon Konoha, it was shifting, and reforming, and he was turning on himself and- Hell, he was quite the opposite of mentally stable, wasn’t he.

* * *

Another day came to pass, another night spent staring sightlessly at the cracks in the ceiling. He had thought about it for several thousand seconds, or minutes, or hours. Time was a concept he refused to acknowledge. (He was sixteen, four years since he left Konoha and Naruto behind. He wasn’t sure which one he missed more.) It passed like molasses, and then all of a sudden, he couldn’t remember what his mother’s face looked like. His current biggest fear was that if she were to miraculously be alive, he would pass by her without a second glance. Wasn’t that a terrifying thought.

And his father, well, his father had vaguely resembled a frog, and maybe it was strange, and father would have smacked him upside in the head if he said it out loud. But the truth was that every time Naruto summoned that giant frog of his, Sasuke couldn’t help but remember his fathers always frowning face, that seemed to be smiling in his foggy memories. Even foggier than his eyesight was nowadays.

That didn’t bode well. He had spent more time using the sharingan than not as of recently. And when he deactivated it, Karin would go from the grinning red haired girl he considered something like an awfully strange sister, to a spiky red blur. It was as annoying as it was funny. 

Sasuke has reduced himself to seeing through the sharingan at almost all points of the day, only deactivating it when he was safe in the Akatsuki base with his team. His eyes would ache so badly afterwards, and eventually the ache became worse until it was almost constant. He knew he’d have to take Itachi’s eyes sooner than later, but the thought horrified him; to see through his dead brother’s eyes. He was holding it off as long as possible. But the wait wouldn’t go on much longer.

Skip forward a few days, or weeks, he still refused to admit that time could pass. That meant someday he would outlive Itachi, and he didn’t want to admit that was possible. Anyways, time went on at a rapid speed, and Karin was gone, maybe dead, he couldn’t bother to care. Suigetsu and Jugo hadn’t been seen recently either, and his brothers eyes were in Sasuke’s head.

He felt numb and disgusted, and maybe a little but disappointed, mostly at himself. Tobi, Madara, whatever he was calling himself, had finally gone to war against Konoha, and Sasuke himself was on bedrest.

Tobi had allied himself with Kabuto, and Sasuke found that he couldn’t possibly care less. Although he heard rumor that Kabuto was reviving the dead, or something like that. He thought that it was unnecessarily cruel, to pit a student against their teacher long dead, but as long as Itachi wasn’t disturbed, he didn’t care about that either.

Fake-Itachi would have told him that he had given up his hatred, that Sasuke would never be able to beat the other man and avenge his clan.

The Itachi that Sasuke had loved would have tapped his forehead and asked him if he was feeling alright in the gentlest way possible. There was a reason that at this moment, Sasuke would have preferred to have Fake-Itachi there.

So instead of peeling the bandages from around his eyes, _Itachi’s eyes,_ he turned over in his bed. A heavy sigh made its way past his lips, and Itachi’s eyes closed, and he gave up on trying to see the light of the battlefield raging on outside of his homely prison.

Sasuke wasn’t angry, he decided. He wasn’t bitter anymore, although he’d still rather be dead than alive. This new feeling of numb, that froze his bones and eyes alike was oddly welcoming. He could only hope that Obito (that was the name he had been looking for) wouldn’t be angry that Sasuke hadn’t joined him on the battlefield.

**Author's Note:**

> There’s only an end note because i hate how fics look without the end note. anyways uhhh stan madara i guess. man, i’m terrible at end notes  
> -haru


End file.
